


a little wild, a little wonderful

by mavencalore



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, F/F, Fluff, Humor, M/M, also penny and agatha are power lesbians, ft. pastel baz and literal sun god simon, this is just soft and cute guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 18:15:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11385690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mavencalore/pseuds/mavencalore
Summary: baz works at a flower shop and can't figure out for the life of him why simon keeps buying dead plants.





	a little wild, a little wonderful

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be a quick break from my current wip, a snowbaz romeo and juliet au called "stumbling," but here we are like 3k words later (oops)
> 
> EDIT: if you're wondering why this fic was updated so recently it's literally because i wanted to have an even word count (i added like two words so you're not missing anything)

In all his years of living, Baz Pitch had never asked for much, but here he was on a hot July evening, watching Penny sweep the same spot on the floor for five minutes, praying to whatever God for just one customer.  No one had walked into Natasha’s Bloom since early that morning, and the air of monotony coupled with the lazy summer air was nearly putting Baz to sleep.  

 

“Hey, if no one else comes in maybe we can all leave early today,” Agatha called from the storeroom.  

 

“There’s has to be someone in this town that needs flowers, right?” Baz replied sullenly.  

 

“Maybe, just not today,” Penny said, sweeping the last bit of dust into a pan and emptying into the trash.  

 

“You missed a spot,” Baz smirked at the rude gesture Penny sent his way in return.  She marched over to where she saw dead leaves and parts of petals scattered on the ground, and Baz drummed his fingers on the counter with a sigh.  It wasn’t as if the shop didn’t get business, but sometimes slow days could make just one hour feel like two.  

 

“Come on Baz, all my shows are on tonight, and Agatha promised she would cook.”

 

“You just want to get laid faster.  Ask your girlfriend if she’s done with inventory yet.”

 

“Checked and double-checked Baz!  I don’t know how many times you’re going to make me count and I highly doubt any serious thief is going to steal freesias.”

 

Agatha stepped out from the storeroom, annoyance flashing over her features until Penny wrapped an arm around her waist.  

 

“Ten minutes.  If no one shows up in the next ten minutes we can close early.  But just this once,” Baz resigned.  Penny pumped her fist in the air. Of course, if no one had shown up since early this morning who could possibly walk in in the next ten minutes?  As luck would have it, the bell by the door rang delicately, alerting the three of them to a customer.  Agatha rolled her eyes and disappeared into the storeroom.  So much for going home.  

 

Baz attempted to look slightly less dead, pulling an inventory copy toward himself in an attempt to look busy.  He watched the customer surreptitiously, a head of messy bronze curls making its way between roses and marigold and ivy.  After a few minutes of staring, the boy disappeared to the nursery section, where the glass let in more light.  The setting sun poured over his head, lighting up his hair to look like spun gold.  Baz turned back to his list before his fantasies got somehow more pathetic.  When he picked up his head it was because of the three flower pots that had been set on the counter in front of him.  He eyed the chosen plants, and they all seemed to be in about the same state, browning and shriveled, dehydrated and gray.  The pot of roses looked especially grim.  In fact, they had all been marked with the same orange sticker, indicating their need to be removed from the shelves.  Baz turned his gaze to the boy with the curls, who grinned at him sheepishly and pushed the plants slightly closer.  

 

“We have some healthier plants in the back if you’d like.  Restock usually happens at the beginning of the week, these were actually supposed to be taken off this weekend.” Baz said.    

 

“Thanks, I prefer these ones though.” the boy replied, still smiling as he pulled out his wallet to pay.  Baz was still looking at him when he had counted out the money.  

 

“Are you gonna—” the boy gestured to the cash register.   

 

“Right, of course!  Sorry, have a nice day,” Baz took the money and called after the boy’s retreating figure.  Behind him, Agatha giggled.

 

“Don’t you have something better to do?” he snapped.  

 

“Absolutely nothing,” she said snarkily, “smooth moves by the way, I bet he was completely smitten by our restock schedule.”

 

“Shut up or I’ll fire you.” Baz averted his gaze.  She did have a point, making awkward contact with a customer was certainly not his greatest moment, not that he would tell her that.  Whatever.  As much as Baz wanted him too, Golden Boy most likely wouldn’t be returning to Natasha’s Bloom.  If he refused to date a blond after seeing the way the sun kissed Golden Boy’s hair, well that was his business.  

 

—

 

More than a week passed, and as expected, no sign of the boy with the bronze curls.  Baz looked forlornly toward the door for the fifth time that afternoon, fingers absentmindedly playing with a stray paper clip.  

 

“Would you stop looking like that?” Bunce huffed.  

 

“Like what?”

 

“Like someone died, is everything okay?”

 

“I’m fine it’s just, he hasn’t been back in over a week.”

 

“Who?  The guy who bought those dead plants?  You’re _still_ thinking about him?  That’s more than a little creepy, Baz.”

 

“Aren’t you working?  Leave me alone Bunce.”

 

The bell jingled, and Penny laughed at how quickly Baz’s head shot up towards the sound.  It turned out to be Agatha struggling under the weight of several heavy bags.  Baz groaned loudly, banging his head on the counter.  

 

“What’s up with him?” she asked.   

 

“Nothing!” Baz shouted.  

 

“Baz has a crush,” Penny raised her eyebrows suggestively.

 

“On who?” Agatha furrowed her brows.

 

“Remember that cute guy who bought all the dead plants like, a week ago?”

 

“Oh my god, seriously?  That’s creepy Baz.”

 

“That’s what I said!”

 

“You’re one to talk Wellbelove, I watched your gay ass pining for months until the two of you got yourselves together.  I honestly don’t know what possessed me to hire the two of you.  If I had known I would have been subject to the 24/7 love fest I most certainly wouldn’t have.  So you both owe me.”  Agatha hit him with her purse as she walked by, but Penny was still smug as she grabbed the broom.  

 

—

 

Baz was having a shit day.  Well, that was putting it lightly.  Half asleep, he managed to spill coffee on his shirt and had to miss the train to work.  Evidently taking a cab was even worse.  How there could be so much traffic this early in the morning was beyond him.  Likewise, he was definitely late opening up the shop, but his steps slowed when he saw Golden Boy sitting on the curb next to the door.  

 

“Hey,” he said tentatively, fumbling with his keys.  

 

“Rough morning?” Golden Boy replied, taking in his ruffled appearance.  

 

“Yeah, sorry about making you wait,” Baz mumbled.  

 

“Don’t be, I wasn’t waiting too long,” the boy’s smile somehow grew brighter.  He followed Baz inside the shop, but by the time he turned around the bronze curls were nowhere to be seen among the rows of flowers.  He craned his neck unabashedly, trying to catch a glance of the boy, but stopped when Penny walked in a short while later.

 

“He’s here,” he mouthed quietly.  Penny smirked in response, raising her brows to say, "Get a move on then!"

 

Before he could get much done, there were five different sized pots on the counter.  This time too they were all desolate looking, the succulents dry and browning near the edges, the fern drooping, and the flower petals sagging and yellow.  

 

“Again?  We have fresher flowers you know,” Baz cringed at the accusatory tone in his voice.  

 

“Trust me, I want these ones.”  But Baz doesn’t let go.  

 

“What’s your name, if you don’t mind my asking?”

 

“Snow.  Simon Snow,” he smiles.   _Does he ever stop doing that?_

 

“Okay, have a nice day then...Snow.”

 

“You too Baz.”  Baz stood slack jawed and confused as the boy, _Snow_ , left the shop.

 

“Name tag, idiot,” Penny whispered into his ear.  Baz blushed to the tips of his ears.  

 

—

 

“He just keeps buying them,” Baz dropped his chicken back into his takeout box.  

 

“Who keeps buying what?” Penny asked around a mouthful of noodles.  

 

“That guy with the curly hair?  Every time he comes in here all he buys are the dead flowers.  He refuses to buy anything that’s actually, you know, alive.  I can’t figure out why.”

 

“Maybe he sucks at taking care them.  That way when they die he feels like less of an asshole.”

 

“Okay but why bother buying them in the first place?” Baz countered.  

 

“I’m not a detective Baz, or a magician.  If you want to know why, just ask.  I’m not sure it could get any more awkward between the two of you if your last interaction was any indication.”

 

“Hey! I actually talked to him this time, got his name and everything.”

 

“Whatever, I don’t have time to give you relationship advice.” Penny dropped her container in the trash and left Baz to his duties.  He couldn’t stop his mind from wandering as he swept around the floor, and then again when he checked the shipment log, and another time when he got so lost in his own head that he stood with his face pressed against the glass in the nursery for several minutes.  

 

—

 

“Would you stop glaring?  I think you’re actually scaring away the customers.” Penny hit his shoulder and smiled apologetically at the woman who had stopped browsing the flowers closer to the counter with a nervous expression on her face.  

 

“Sorry, I’m just out of it.”

 

“Why, nothing too bad I hope?”

 

“Simon hasn’t been back in weeks,” he sulked.  

 

“I’m gonna assume that’s Dead Plant Guy?”

 

“Yeah.  I was hoping he’d come back at some point, I just wasn’t expecting him to take literal years.”

 

“Who’s taking literal years?” A new voice asked.  Baz looked to see Simon standing in front of the counter with an armful of dead greenery.   

 

“I—no one, just our delivery guy.  He’s not the most reliable.” Baz stuttered.  

 

“Oh I’m sorry,” Simon said genuinely.  Then he pushed the pots onto the counter, “just these for today, and before you ask, I’m not interested in any newer plants.”

 

Baz bit his lip, hiding a smile as he rang up the purchases, “Why?”

 

“Why what?”

 

“Why do you keep buying the dead ones.  They don’t cost any less, you know.”

 

“I know I just, don’t laugh at me, but I like taking care of them.  It feels good nursing them back to health and all.”

 

 _Of course_ , Baz thought, he would never have thought of that.  Of course Simon Snow, the literal sun, would do something as wholesome and good as nurse dying plants in his spare time.  He had half the mind to ask if the boy volunteered at soup kitchens and shelters too.  

 

“I think it’s wonderful, actually.” he finally replied.  Simon blushed, a wave of strawberry milk disturbing the moles scattered near his neck and his jaw.  

 

“Would you maybe, want to see them sometime?  Get a coffee or something?” Simon said shyly.  

 

“Yeah, yes, definitely,” Baz replied, slightly breathless.  He grabbed a pen and tore off a piece of paper, scribbling his number on it handing it to Simon, “just call me.”

 

Simon’s answering smile was bright enough to replace all the lights over his head.  

 

—

 

Two weeks later, the two of them met at a modest cafe a short ways from Simon’s apartment.  

 

“Put that away, I’m paying,” Simon said, catching sight of Baz’s wallet.  

 

“I can pay for my own coffee Snow,” he replied in earnest.  

 

“Next time.  I asked you out, so I pay.  What are you getting?”

 

Next time?  Baz thought himself lucky enough to even get out more than five words around Simon, and here was talking about a second date.  

 

“Pumpkin mocha breve,” he said finally.  

 

“Pumpkin _what_?  I didn’t peg you for a sweet drink kind of guy.”

 

Baz looked down at his soft purple sweater and rolled up jeans, “I’m a walking stereotype Snow.  I didn’t peg you for a coffee elitist.” he teased.  Simon rolled his eyes and handed money over to a waiting barista.  The two of them sat down to talk, and as it turned out they shared much more in common than they had previously thought, coffee preferences aside.  

 

“You know after that first time I walked into your shop I had to physically stop myself from coming back every other day,” Simon confessed.  

 

“Why?”

 

“I don’t know, I thought you would find it weird I guess, even if I didn’t know you.”

 

“I wouldn’t have, found it weird that is, I liked seeing you.  You really should come in more often, I swear even the plants perk up when you walk in,” Baz smiled openly.  

 

“Maybe I will then,” Simon grabbed his empty cup and Baz’s and tossed them out, “come on, I want to show you something.”

 

Baz let himself be pulled out the door, stunned at the warm feeling of Simon’s fingers wrapped around his wrist.  When they slowed down in front of an apartment complex, Simon laced their fingers together.  

 

“I’m renting the apartment on the top floor, so I use the rooftop as a garden,” Simon said to him as he pulled open the heavy metal door leading to the roof.  When Baz stepped out onto it, his breath stopped.  All around, draped on every surface and growing in every crevice, were flowers and greenery.  Roses and peonies, long, lush vines of ivy and tall cacti.  Baz caught a pot full of lavender that he had sold to him, once shriveled and crumbling, now teeming with color and spreading it’s sweet scent.  He turned in a slow circle, admiring the colorful quality of the improvised space, and in the center of it all, Simon, who stood with his hands shoved in his pockets, looking wild and wonderful and _alive_. 

 

“It’s beautiful, I might be in love” Baz breathed.

 

“I’m, uh, glad you like it.  You’re welcome to visit anytime,” Simon walked over to Baz, kneeling to breathe in the lavender.  

 

“Only if I can help,” Baz said, kneeling with him.  There was a silence, but this time not an awkward one.  

 

“My mom, she died when I was a kid.  We had this garden in our old house and I would go out there and help her take care of them.  She called me her 'rosebud boy'.  I didn’t have much when I moved here, and seeing all this cement reminded me too much of the care homes I grew up in after she left.  So I did what she did, I filled it with beautiful things,” Simon said all this quietly, voice carrying with the breeze that passed by, ruffling the petals on the flowers around them.  

 

“I lost my mother too, when I was five.  That’s who the shop is named after, actually.  Thank you, for telling me,” Baz said softly in return, reaching for Simon’s hand as they both stood up.  

 

“Hey, I guess we both match,” Simon brought their foreheads together, stealing Baz’s breath once again.  

 

“Yeah, I guess we do,” Baz whispered back, eyes slipping shut when Simon’s hand came to rest gently on his cheek.  

 

“Can I kiss you?” Baz tilted his head forward in response, and Simon closed the gap the rest of the way.  

 

Simon tasted oddly like smoke, it was heady, as intoxicating as the trace of bitter coffee on his tongue.  Baz opened his mouth further, fingers finally curling into Simon’s soft curls.  This close he could smell his apple scented shampoo.  He committed every sensation to memory, but any coherency he had flew out the window when Simon wrapped his other arm around Baz’s waist and pulled him closer, kissing him hard.

 

—

 

“You look sick, come on, we have customers to take care of,” Agatha nudged him annoyingly.  

  
“He is sick,” Penny called, “sick in love!”

 

“Shut it you,” Baz didn’t have the strength to shoot back a biting remark.  

 

“Not anymore, lover boy, you’re just like the rest of us.”  Before Penny could say anything else, the bell rang, and someone stepped inside the shop.  It was Simon, carrying a large bouquet of multicoloured roses.  

 

“Flowers?  Have you got another florist boyfriend?  Should I be jealous?” Baz teased, leaning over the counter.  

 

“Actually, these are for you, from the roof, I bought these the first time I came here,” Simon said shyly, holding them out.  

 

“They’re gorgeous, I’m keeping them forever,” Baz laughed softly, stepping out to kiss Simon gently.  

 

“I take back everything I said about you two being a cute couple,” Penny said.  

 

“You’re absolutely disgusting,” Agatha finished.

 

“Hello girls, mind if I steal Baz a little early?  I’m taking him out for dinner,” he smiled good naturedly.  

 

“Oh of course, just because our boss has a boyfriend who can suddenly whisk him away on romantic dates.”

 

“Sorry Simon, thirty more minutes, I promise,” Baz kissed him in apology.  

 

“Go, do your thing, I’ll look for more dead things to bring home with us,” Simon said, curls bouncing away towards the shelves.  

 

Baz smiled to himself.  At this point he was sure Simon could bring things back from the dead. Like magic, and maybe a little help from Baz himself.  He was a florist after all, and thank god for it.  

 

**Author's Note:**

> i love pastel baz okay sue me...
> 
> say hi to me on twitter @macchiatomyg !! leave a comment/kudos if you liked it, they really keep me going ily


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